


Fears and Feelings

by EmJ93



Series: Greta Trevelyan and the Saga of the Feelings [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-24 05:37:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7495953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmJ93/pseuds/EmJ93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trevelyan is still reeling after almost freezing to death and being named Inquisitor. She and Cullen stumble through an attempt to tell each other how they feel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fears and Feelings

 She headed down the steps, mind scattered as she thought over everything that needed to be done. It was all on her now, the weight of decisions that affected hundreds of people on her shoulders, all because they'd named her Inquisitor. Sweet maker, why had they done that? She'd spent most of her life in the Circle, had passed her time reading books and practicing magic, she wasn't prepared for a position of leadership. She wasn't even technically supposed to inherit her family's title of nobility, considering how uncomfortable society was with the idea of a mage having any kind of power. There was no way that putting her in charge of the Inquisition was going to end well.

 Spying Cullen by a makeshift desk off to the side, where he was giving out orders to a group of soldiers, she let the frightened thoughts that were beginning to form in her mind fade away, a slight smile instead taking her lips. She remembered very little of how she'd ended up in the Inquisition's camp after setting off into the blizzard during her escape from Haven. She remembered a biting cold enveloping her body, and a tiredness that she couldn't fight any longer. She remembered warm breath on her face, a smell of elder flower and oak moss, and her head resting against something soft. She remembered soothing words that she couldn't quite make out in her barely conscious state, but that she knew were coming from the Commander. 

 Greta wandered towards him, not entirely sure what to say but nevertheless finding some comfort in the idea of being around him. She still hadn't quite figured out how to voice her gratitude that he'd found her that night,  almost certainly saving her from freezing to death on a lonely mountainside. She still hadn't decided whether she wanted to bring up those few moments in the Chantry, before she'd headed out to face Corypheus, when she had almost told him that she liked him, almost admitted that she had been terrified that she was going to die without having had the opportunity to get to know him better. But she'd survived. She _had_ that opportunity now, she reasoned, so why was she still feeling terrified?

 As she neared the group, the soldiers dispersed, heading off in various directions to take care of whatever tasks he'd assigned, a look of focus set on most of their faces. She opened her mouth to announce her presence, but Cullen spoke instead, apparently already aware that she was there. "We set up as best we could at Haven, but we could never have prepared for an Archdemon, or whatever it was. With some warning, we might have..."

 As he trailed off with a sigh, raising a hand to rub the back of his neck, Greta drew close enough to better take in his appearance. Tired lines, dark in colour, ran under his amber eyes, and his face seemed a shade or two paler than usual. She frowned, concern for his health nagging at the back of her mind. "Do you ever sleep?"

 "If Corypheus strikes again, we may not be able to withdraw... and I wouldn't want to." She noted that he hadn't actually answered her question, despite clearly hearing it, and hoped that didn't mean that he hadn't been allowing himself to rest. Her frown deepened, but she let him continue on. "We must be ready. We will not run from here, Inquisitor."

 Hearing the title, her mind reeled again. Maker, this was real. She was a leader. She had an army at her control, and a castle full of frightened civilians that she had to protect from some ancient darkspawn creature and his dragon, who were out there,  _somewhere_. She couldn't do this. People were going to die. Even as she tried to fight her discomfort over the whole situation, she found words tumbling from her lips. "' _Inquisitor_ _Trevelyan_ '? It sounds odd, don't you think?"

 Cullen smiled at her, his entire face softening as he met her eye. If he was aware of her fear regarding her new position, he certainly didn't show it. His eyes shone a little brighter, and even as tired as he looked, in that moment she couldn't help but think he was handsome. "Not at all. We needed a leader, and you have more than proven yourself."

 "Thank you, Cullen." She returned his smile, appreciating his confidence in her with all her heart. Seeing how genuinely he seemed to believe she could do this, she pushed back down her fears, fighting them off for a little while longer. A silence fell between them, still holding each other's gaze though their conversation had found its natural end.

 Greta hesitated a little. This probably wasn't the time or place to have the discussion, she told herself. But if she didn't do it now, she might never gather the courage. She pulled her eyes away from his, unable to think straight with his face right there in front of her, with his amber eyes lit up the way they were. Staring intently down at the ground beneath her feet, she added; "Our escape from Haven... it was close. I'm relieved that you -" Raising her eyes again, she found him still watching her closely, his expression a little more intense. Her heart skipped a beat. Oh, Maker, what was she doing? "That _so many_  made it out."

 She instantly regretted changing her mind, silently cursing at herself for not just finishing the sentence, for not being brave enough to tell him what it was that actually she wanted to say. He'd searched frozen mountaintops in the middle of the night to find her when there was no reason to believe that she'd even survived Haven; surely that was a sign that he felt something for her too?

 "As am I." Cullen's eyes were still fixed on her, and there was a hint of something in his expression and the tone of his voice that made her wonder if he knew what she had meant to say, if maybe he was responding to the words she hadn't quite dared speak. It was he who tore his gaze away this time, awkwardly looking off in another direction as a silence fell between them again, leagues different in tone from the last. She tried to find a way to respond, but couldn't conjure the words she needed, and eventually settled instead on just walking away. They could figure out this awkward mess another day, surely.

 As her back turned, he spoke up again, something in his voice she couldn't place, but which stopped her in her tracks immediately. "You stayed behind. You could have..."  _Died_. The word hung between them, unspoken, as she turned to face him again. She briefly caught an expression of sadness on his face, before it sharply turned to resolve. "I will not allow the events of Haven to happen again. You have my word."


End file.
